Truth piles high
in alleyways.
Pooling in puddles
on the sidewalks.
Everything expected
in it's usual place.
Fact sits atop
the tallest building
in gilded, laureled glory
pressing his will
into us.
And we,
because we are not
the ones paying attention,
turn to our affairs.
5 comments:
So, I am really into the divergent ideas of truth and fact and how they are prevalent in postmodernism. None moreso than in Watchmen. I know that the title is overused, but really that's who/what the poem is about . I also reconstructed a Frost line for the end. So, I'm kind of a thief.
awesome, even if i think watchmen is overrated.
yeah, i said it.
the last time i saw you was actually coming out of the movie.
I'm drawn to Watchmen's definition of truths as well, as well as the whole postmodern ideal of breaking away from tradition and the gyre.
The descriptions you offer of Truth and Fact are wonderfully precise. I like how both are elevated, but the words place them at such disparate places: one piles high, almost like its some dingy trash dump, and the other sits atop, regal and enthroned. Awesome precision of language here.
I tried watching Watchmen, but sort of lost interest so I really don't know the movie reference. I do know Shelley's poem though and how he describes this once glorious monument that is now crumpled in the desert. This parallels that poem antithetically as the wreckage is described first followed by the monumental. I also like how truth is attainable while fact seems ignored and out of reach. We really are fools.
Chris,
I think that it works textually to where the images are secondary. That's why I like it. It also ( along with The History of Love and 100 years of solitude) really illustrates the truth/fact debate.
Brent. Read the "book" it's awesome.
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